They were quick to abandon their fishing to help the two lost travelers, and within moments Marcus and Evelina were on dry land with half the village surrounding them. One of the fishermen sent his boy off at a run to inform the village patriarch of their good fortune. The patriarch met the boy on the way, for he’d heard the commotion and was heading down to see what was going on. He greeted the prince and the lady Marcus introduced as “Mistress Evelina” with calm dignity and offered them his house for the night.

“Thank you, sir,” said Marcus gratefully. “I know my parents must be worried sick. If someone could carry a message—”

“No one in the village owns a horse,” the patriarch replied, and seeing the prince’s downcast expression, he added, “I will send our swiftest lad to find the king’s men tomorrow morning.”

Since that appeared to be the best Marcus could hope for, he accepted the offer with good grace. He was too exhausted and hungry to do much else.

The patriarch’s wife served up a hastily prepared meal of fish stew, left over from their own dinner. Marcus won the good woman’s heart by eating two helpings and swearing that he’d never tasted any food so delicious from the royal kitchen. The women of the village clucked over his injured hands and made up a poultice for him as he ate, then wrapped his hands in bandages.

Marcus, well-fed, safe, and warm, felt sleep creeping over him. He must have dozed off in his chair, for the next thing he knew, the patriarch was assisting him to a mattress on a floor in the corner—the patriarch’s own bed. He fell onto the mattress and closed his eyes.

“Thank you, kind sir, but I will stay with him,” Evelina said shyly. “My place is by his side.”

“No,” said Marcus, opening his eyes. “I cannot allow that. You are as tired as I am. Sir, I would be grateful to you if you could find a place for Mistress Evelina to stay this night.”

He meant this kindly, and he was startled to see Evelina cast him an irate glance. He couldn’t imagine what he’d done to upset her. She flounced out without a word, accompanying the patriarch and his wife.

He was drifting into unconsciousness when the red eyes of the dragon bore down on him, jolting him to heart-pounding wakefulness. Marcus found himself drenched in sweat. His hands stung and burned.

He was a long time going back to sleep.